What is Lost and What is Found
by Wedjatqi
Summary: John has to deal not only with life after his return and his failing marriage, but now with the news of his father's death. 4th Part of Death and Life series. JT. AU version of the episode 'Outcast'. COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** This is set after the fic 'The Return', which in turn followed the fics 'Defeat' and 'Departure'. Pls read them first if you can.

**Warning:** The angst continues. Contains nightmares and bereavement. AU reality.

**Spoilers:** Outcast (season 4)

**Disclaimers**: I own no part of the Stargate world, I make no money from this endeavour. It allows me to let my muse out to play.

--

Chapter one…..

The hot full summer sunlight dappled down through the tall trees around her, casting her in cooling shadow. Teyla swung the axe once again, the blade slicing into the bark with a heavy thud. This was the most stubborn tree she had ever met.

In an effort to expand their camp and to gather more wood for new tents the council had decided to take down this old tree. It was massive, blocking light and in its furthest branches a disease had set in. So the decision was made to cut it down. It had taken an entire team of the most skilled and strongest men and women to cut down its massive limbs. Once down to a pruned large trunk they had begun to cut it down further; which took an amazingly large amount of time. Now barely more than a short stump in the earth it still refused to be shifted. They had dug out around its base, revealing a ridiculous amount of thick strong roots that appeared to stretch deep down into the planet's crust by Teyla's reckoning.

Try as they might, they could not seem to release the stump's hold on the earth. It was as if it were fighting back against them. Eventually the other Athosians had given up on the stump, stating that perhaps they needed to respect this amazing tree and leave it be. They had more light and space and enough wood to use. But, Teyla was determined.

She swung the axe again and it embedded deeply into the uppermost root she was working on. Behind her Halling's axe echoed her own, as he worked to chop the limbs into workable lengths. It was enjoyable working alongside Halling, but she knew he saw her determination to remove this old stump as something of an unhealthy obsession. She did not. She would not give up.

It had become a symbol for defeat in her mind. She would not give in and instead worked in her spare time to fight it. As she pulled the axe free she took in the tiny mark she had made she realised that perhaps there were quicker ways to achieve her aim.

The thought of a block of C4 entered her mind and not for the first time. She felt a moment of glee at the image of the stump exploding and a smile crossed her face. She would contact Atlantis and request a block or two. And it would give her an excuse to visit the city. It had been a month since John had returned and she had visited him twice a week since. Though he did not appear overly happy to see her each time, she was determined. And he did not ask her not to visit him and she took that as a good sign. She would not lose her connection to this man. He meant more to her than that.

Physically he was doing well, and was attending almost daily sessions with Kate Heightmeyer. Everyone told her that he was progressing well, but she was not convinced. Though she and John had drifted apart, she still knew him better than anyone else. And she saw that he was suppressing and withholding. He had turned inwards, and though he had put back on most of his weight and was able to sit in a crowded room without flinching at every sound, she knew he was still very hurt. She could see it in his eyes, in how he held his body and she knew he had not truly spoken openly about his experiences with anyone.

She did not expect him to reveal those experiences to her, but she wanted to be available for him just in case he did. And perhaps also to make sure that there was someone around him who knew he needed more support. She knew he was fully aware that she was able to see into him and that was why he resisted spending too much time alone with her. He couldn't maintain much direct eye contact with her, though some of that may be due to the end of their marriage. Yet, though they had mentioned it being over on his return, nothing had been spoken of it since. He had not asked to make their separation official, and she could not bring herself to ask him if he wanted to. She wondered if she wanted it anymore.

Deep down she was determined to stay as close to him as he would allow, though some part of her felt nothing but pain and loss in their times together now. They never spoke of the past between them, instead focusing on the mundane details of life and even the weather. Then someone else would join them, or he would make an excuse to go for a walk or to the Mess Hall. It hurt even more then, but she would not give up.

"Teyla." Halling called and she looked around.

As if materialised from her thoughts John appeared in the clearing. Halling was walking towards him his hand extended. Teyla watched in pleasure as the two men shook hands. Halling had not seen John since his return and it was clear he was happy to see him now. He clasped John's shoulder as he shook his hand in the customary Earth greeting. A light smile crossed John's face and he appeared as pleased to see Halling in return.

Teyla took the opportunity whilst they were talking to wipe the sweat from her brow and to strike the axe down safely into the stump. Climbing up out of the hole around the stump she wiped her hands down and walked towards John. He had finished talking with Halling, who had disappeared subtly out of sight.

As they neared one another she noticed anew how withdrawn he was. She could even see it in how he walked, and his head was dropped. He pulled off his sunglasses and looked at her from under his brow. She noticed that the dark areas under his eyes that had been improving were once again dark, making him look exhausted and ill. The areas around his eyes were pinched.

"John." She greeted him with a smile, truthfully happy to see him. As far as she knew this was the first time he had been outside the city. He looked wrong out of his uniform, instead dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt despite the heat. The black colours only made him look paler and more tired.

"Teyla." He replied as he came to a rest slightly further away from her than was normal. She stopped as well, trying to respect his space. His eyes slid from her to the stump behind her. "I've got to go back to Earth for a bit….my father died." He said with a controlled voice.

Regret laced through her. This was the last thing he needed now. "John, I am so sorry." She said, stepping closer and laying a hand on his arm. He nodded in response, his lower lip tucking up with contained emotion. "He was a good man."

His eyes slid her hers questioningly.

"I met him and all your family." She replied softly. "At your funeral." She clarified and wondered whether he would regret that she had met them all. Had spent time talking about him. She had taken time to tell them how successful and respected John had been, was, in his position at work. His family had been so sad, especially his father who had openly wept with her over the loss of his estranged son. The memories tightened her throat and she mourned the father-in-law she had barely known.

"He didn't mention that in his letter." John said quietly, his eyes back on the stump.

"Letter?" She asked with hope.

"The Airforce sent someone out to him and my brother to tell them I was in fact alive and had been returned after being captured by enemy forces. He wrote to me just after that."

"Good." Was all she could manage. Joy that John had had some communication from his father before his death made her reach out and touch his arm again.

"I wrote back to him a couple of weeks ago. He should have read it before…." John stopped nodding and slipped his sunglasses back on.

She understood his need to hide behind the dark shields, but the angle of the light made them pretty much see through and she saw the tears in the corner of his eyes. He blinked them away.

"We were starting to re-connect as Heightmeyer would say." He continued eventually. "I need to go back for the funeral and I'm going to take some time off back on Earth."

Shock made her feel cold. "You are leaving?"

"I need some time to myself and away from everything. The SGC have given me a further six months off to recover and to decide if I want to return. I'm taking my things back with me to Earth in case I don't come back."

She was aware her mouth was hanging open slightly, so she shut it and nodded.

"You said you had some of my things here still." He continued not waiting for her to say something.

He was here to say goodbye and to take his things. It was horridly final and surprising. She looked up at him, and made no attempt to hide the emotion on her face. "You are not planning to come back are you." She stated softly.

He looked away. "I need time Teyla."

She could not argue with that. He had been through so much. Not only had their marriage faded to nothing, then to be captured and tortured and now he had lost his father. He deserved time off after all he had personally done for the people of this galaxy and for her people. But, he was leaving.

"The boxes are back in my tent." She indicated towards the camp and he nodded, turning that way. He wanted to get this over with. Together they walked the short distance to the camp. "I am afraid I gave your surf board to Jinto." She offered once they reached the tent.

She caught a light smile on his lips then. "He surfs?"

"He remembers most of what you taught him and he joins several from Atlantis every month to surf on a world with excellent waves, apparently."

"I know the one." He replied as they entered her tent.

She headed towards her cupboards and opened the largest, revealing the two boxes of his things that she had not wanted to give or throw away. She worked to pull the first box free and turned to see John looking around her tent. The sunglasses were once again off and she took in the suppressed tight eyes again. How many nights had she cried in this tent over her lost husband? And now he was here.

"Have you heard from Ronon?" She asked to distract herself.

"No." John reported with tight emotion.

"Is Rodney going with you to the funeral?" She pushed as she pulled the second box of his things from her cupboard.

"No. He's fixing the ancient shield on the kids' planet. I'm going back to Earth by myself later today. The funeral's tomorrow." He replied, his tone betraying his curiosity at her question.

The idea of him going to the funeral by himself hurt her deeply. "Could I come with you?" She found herself asking.

He was obviously surprised by the question.

"Your family may be surprised not to see me with you and I would like to pay my respects to your father as well. If you do not mind." She asked, hoping he would not stop her from accompanying him. She knew he would be met by enough questions and emotions at the funeral, that an absent wife would only add more questions. His family had thought him dead after all and he was fragile enough at the moment that she did not want him going up against all that alone.

He considered her request, obviously still thrown by it. "Ummm, okay."

"Thank you." She said with relief and pleasure. "I would like one more opportunity to see Earth."

He looked interested for a moment. "You spend much time there whilst I was…gone?"

"Only to drive to the church where your funeral was held and then we went back to your father's home."

"Really?"

"He showed me your old childhood room." She confessed. The memory of that large bedroom, so absent of the essence of John, still lingered.

"I didn't really like that room." He replied and she smiled.

"I did not think you had." She replied. For a moment she felt that connection between them. He smiled briefly once more and looked down at the boxes between them.

"This everything?" He asked.

"Yes, except for your book." She crossed over to her bedside table and pulled his book from her drawer. She carried it back towards him and saw the surprise on his face. "I finished it for you." She told him.

"It end well?" He asked taking the book slowly from her. He rubbed a hand down over the front cover.

"I believe so, but I have had to start from the beginning to understand the last few chapters."

He looked up at that and smiled with a curious frown. After a moment of thought he extended the book back to her. "Then you should keep it. So at least one of us has read the whole thing."

She looked down at the book and so wanted to keep it. "Are you sure? It means so much to you."

She could tell he was surprised by her insight, but he gestured towards her with the book again. "I can get another back on Earth. It's a popular book there."

"Oh." She took it back, well she would cherish it.

A silence descended over them as John opened the top box and peered inside.

"I will pack a bag now and go back to Atlantis with you now? I can help you carry your things back then."

He nodded. "Okay. I hadn't expected there to be so much."

She turned and began to gather together what she would need to take to Earth. "How long will we be there?"

"We'll drive up there tonight, stay in a motel. The funeral is tomorrow. I was planning to stay at the motel that night as well and head out the day after."

She nodded and added another change of clothes, leaving him time to reacquaint himself with his belongings. Her bags packed, she picked up a coat and turned back to him.

He looked up as he closed the boxes. "Ummm if we're going to play husband and wife again, then we should get some rings again."

She ignored the comment of 'playing' husband and wife. "Yes, I forgot." She pulled on the cord around her neck, pulling it over her head, the two rings shining in the dim light. "I wasn't sure if you would want yours back."

Freeing his ring she held it out to him to see his eyes wide and still on the cord in her hand. He looked back up to her eyes and she felt slightly embarrassed for a moment for her sentimentality. Slowly he reached out and took the ring from her fingers, playing with it in his fingertips as he studied it.

"You cleaned them?" He asked quietly.

"Yes." She had spent one tearful night after his death studiously cleaning them, removing every speck and tarnished blemish, as if could change what had happened.

He rolled the ring between his fingers once more before he slipped it into his pocket. She tried not to feel the rejection that action caused her. About to retie her cord, she changed her mind and for the first time in a long time she slid the band onto the correct finger of her left hand. It still fit, which was a surprise to her. She would need to wear it on Earth, so why not put it on now. Fearing to look up at him she turned and picked up her bag, coat and one of his boxes.

"Shall we go?"

He watched her for a moment, his numb yet emotionally raw eyes assessing her before he nodded and reached for the second box.

--


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning:** The angst continues. Contains nightmares and bereavement.

--

Chapter two…

The familiar Earth landscape passed the car windows and John paid it little attention. His mind was fixed on what he needed to do. He needed to get to the motel in good time and he needed not to lose it.

The loss of his father had shocked him in its intensity. Heightmeyer had told him it was alright if he was feeling overly emotional over the death, considering what he had been through lately. Not that he had shown any of that emotional intensity to her, but he guessed she was trained to see through masks. Her and Teyla both could see that he was not fine. He was far from fine.

He wasn't sure if Teyla's presence here on Earth was a good thing or not. She both soothed him and discomforted him. He knew she was not fooled by his 'progress' since his release and he hated that she could. But, at the same time he knew he wanted her to see it. To see the pain he had never expressed to anyone, at least then someone could witness it and maybe he didn't have to let it all out.

Once the funeral was over he planned to disappear up into the mountains. An old friend had a cabin high up in the Rockies that he was free to use. There was a town close enough for supplies and medical support if necessary, but other than that he would be blissfully alone. There he could open the suppressed locked box of emotions in isolation. If he wanted he could scream out his pain to the empty landscape. There he could heal and decided where to go next. He just needed to hold it together for two more days, then Teyla would be gone, his father buried and he would be alone again.

As he turned the steering wheel to the right his left hand entered his field of view. The ring was bright and new on his finger. It felt strange to wear it, not only due to having rarely worn it on his finger even during the happy times, but that he was wearing it as part of a farce. Maybe it would be best to tell his family that he and Teyla were separated, but he did not want the questions, the sympathy; there would be too much of that as it was already. He was dreading the funeral and Teyla's presence beside him was very welcome in that light.

He looked at her to see her watching the passing scenery with extreme interest. She broke the silence between them every now and then to ask him questions about what she saw. Some part of him gloried to see her so animated and interested and even had had the desire to change direction and take her to the mountains with him. She would love it there and they would be able to talk. Maybe she could help him heal? Pushing that selfish feeling aside he tried to pull back his distance, stifling the longing thoughts of the early months of their marriage. He had been so very happy.

On a whim he took a turning towards a mall. He needed to get a suit anyway and Teyla would enjoy a little shopping.

"Thought we could pick up some supplies and maybe some clothes?" He said.

She looked round at him her eyes bright. "Really?"

He could not help but smile at her enthusiasm. "We can't stay for too long."

"I have been wanting to visit a real store." She replied as she looked towards the massive mall as he pulled into a parking space.

He smiled again. "You may find that my version of a woman's clothing store is a little different from the reality."

--

They had spent quite a lot in the mall, and Teyla had purchased several outfits, including one she planned to wear to the funeral as she did not own anything black. He thought that reflected on her personality rather aptly, but then memories of her sullen withdrawn behaviour during the later part of their marriage reinstated themselves. He had followed her about the mall, desperately trying not to react to the masses of people around him. The urge to run back to the car was over whelming. Any loud noise still tore at his nerves and his heart rate remained high throughout their visit.

Once back to the car he was pleased with himself for handling it well and for not having shown any of it to Teyla. But, she smiled reassuringly and he realised she had known. Perhaps that was why she had been so busy there and talked so much. Embarrassment mixed with relief that she understood.

He said barely anything to her for the next hour until they reached the motel, the sun setting as they pulled into the parking space. He walked to the front desk and paused, realising he would need to ask for a double room. It wouldn't do to have a married couple in different rooms and to be honest he didn't want her by herself on this strange planet. He hesitated as he handed over his new SGC issued credit card. He had not been sleeping well, waking in the nights haunted by nightmares and often spent most of the nights then pacing his room. Teyla didn't need to see that. The cashier asked him again how many rooms he wanted. He told him one double. He would have to hold it together for two nights, sleep on the floor maybe.

He headed back out to find that Teyla had unpacked their bags and was waiting for him. It was suddenly so strange to see her here in an Earth setting. His wife. The name had been unused in his mind for a long time, not since his capture. He tensed as he took his bag from her out stretched hand.

"I had to get a double room. I'll sleep on the floor." He turned before she said anything, as he didn't want to hear or see any rejection.

He turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. It was a large enough space with a kitchen and seating area with a connecting bedroom, which contained a large double bed. He looked away from the bed quickly.

Teyla moved past him and placed her bags down beside one side of the bed, the opposite side to the one he wanted. It was an odd beat in which he realised she knew which side he would want to sleep that she did not even ask him, or did she not care?

He pushed the door closed, a wave of relief washing over him. He felt more secure now; he had a place to sleep and a door to shut behind him. These new worries and neuroses bugged him, but he still clung to them. They helped him get through each day at a time. He was locked inside his own head full of worries and nasty memories and if these small victories helped then so be it. They would fade eventually Heightmeyer said, but he worried that they may not.

"Are you hungry?" Teyla asked snapping him out of his internal worrying. He looked to her and saw the concern in her eyes.

"I'm okay."

"You need to eat, John." She pushed. "We could go to that small café on the corner we saw."

John looked out of the dingy curtained window towards the busy café.

"Or we could order in?" She asked.

"You know about ordering in?" John looked back at her with sudden amusement.

She nodded as she headed to the small phone set beside the small sofa. She gathered up the take out menus. "What should we get?"

--

John contemplated the bed and looked back towards the tiny sofa. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Teyla frowned back at the sofa. "It is smaller than you are. Sleep in the bed, I will sleep on the sofa."

John looked at the sofa seeing only the dirty faded fabric. He didn't want Teyla sleeping on that. "I'll put a sheet down on the floor and sleep there."

She sighed. "John, we have shared a bed many times before. You need to get a good night's sleep, so get into the bed and we will share it."

He considered her proposal as she set about pulling back the covers and began to settle under the heavy blanket. "I don't sleep very well anymore." It was a serious understatement.

"I sleep very well as you know, you will not disturb me." She snuggled down and switched off the small bedside lamp beside her.

With great doubt he climbed into his side and pulled up the covers. They lay in the dark beside each other once again, a large gap between them. He could feel she was awake and aware of the memories this evoked. He remembered the long nights he had lain awake watching her sleep on the far side of the bed, unwilling to touch him even whilst in a deep sleep. The similar situation brought back the loniness and rejection once again. At least it was a change to his usual paranoid fears of someone sneeking up on him to beat him. He wasn't thinking about dying, or forever living in a nightmare.

--

The chamber had been small, pitch black and damp. The cold was always present, his only companion during his periods in the isolation room. He had no concept of time in there. There was no light, no way of sensing the passing of time other than his breaths. So he had counted them, over and over again. He liked counting to a thousand, then restarting. It was a nice round number and his only form of control in that chamber. There wasn't enough space to do any press-ups in there, so he would kneel upright as best as he could and do press-ups against the cold damp wall. For every breath he did a press-up, or push-away-from-the-wall-ups. He had laughed hysterically when he had come up with that and had realised his grip on reality had been loosening. It had sobered him.

Then they arrived. The door would slam open, bright sharp light burning into his eyes before he could close them. He would be grabbed by the nearest limb and pulled out into the corridor. Hands would drag him to the main cell, full of all types of cruel prisoners, all thrown together. There whoever was first to him would try and steal his tattered clothes first. He had gotten quite good at lashing out without thought in retaliation against the many grabbing hands, digging into their eyes, tearing at ears and breaking noses and fingers. Until Lorne or Phillips could get in to help him.

Now a hand got through his wild scrap, catching his throat and digging in. Black dirtied fingernails clawing at his throat. No one was coming to save him. Someone else struck him from behind with what felt like a pipe. He felt his ribs crack and break, the pain crunching him up, his strength leaking out further as he struggled against the hands slowly strangling him. He reached out to attack the face of the one attacking him, but could not find anything, so he scratched and ripped at the arms, flesh parting under his attack, but the nails only bit deeper into his throat.

"No one is coming for you. You will die here." A voice dribbled in his ear. The pipe slammed into his back again and he fell, the hands moving with him still trying to squeeze the life from him.

He screamed then, and tore at the attacker's hands with all his might. He fell away and found himself tumbling off a bed. Scrabbling to get his feet under him and out of the blanket trapping his movements he crawled away, he had to get away before they all rushed in on him again. Stumbling up right he made it to a corner and wedged his back into it, his arms up ready to protect himself.

"John!" Teyla's voice finally registered.

Blinking rapidly the dream became apparent and slipped back laughing from his consciousness. Until tomorrow night. Panting and drenched in sweat he looked around at the bedroom around him the confusion finally clearing. Teyla was sat up in the bed, her hands out stretched towards him in a calming action, showing she meant him no harm.

The tension poured out of him and he gasped out trying to gather his mind back together. Pushing away from the corner he stumbled towards the bathroom, his feet almost catching in the bed sheets thrown to the floor.

The cold water over his face helped, something real and punishing in a good way. He stared down at the plughole and counted his breaths. He got to one hundred when Teyla appeared beside him. She slid a cautious hand over his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" She asked. He could hear the sympathy and pity in her voice. He didn't want her to feel that towards him. He couldn't bear to have her think of him as less of a man. She had already rejected him as a husband. He didn't want her pity. Anything was better than that, because if she offered her shoulder for him to cry on he suspected he might just take it. He couldn't let that happen.

"Just a nightmare. I'm okay now." He replied his voice tight, but his breathing was calmer.

"Memories from your capture?" She asked softly, her voice too calming, too kind.

"They'll fade. Go back to bed, I'm going to sit up for a bit." He grabbed the thin towel and covered his face absorbing up the water. If only it were so easy to do that with feelings.

Her hand still lingered on his shoulder and he was so very glad that he wore a shirt, for if he felt the warmth of her skin he knew he would break down.

"You should rest." She replied.

"I know what I need, Teyla." He snapped. "I'll go watch some TV. I'll keep the volume down. Go back to bed."

Her hand slid from his shoulder, but she made no move to leave his side. He lowered the towel and wiped his hands on it, purposefully not looking in the mirror in front of him, or at her beside him. Her hands appeared clasping the side of the washbasin.

"You have these nightmares every night?"

"They're better than before. They'll fade." He said his mantra out loud for her. They'll fade.

"Have you told Kate about them?"

"Yes. The others have them too. I'll be fine; I just need to sit up for a while."

"Till you fall asleep from exhaustion." It was not a question. She understood.

He declined to answer instead he slowly folded the towel back up in his hands. "It'll get better."

"Not if you do not talk about them, talk about what happened."

"I can't Teyla. I need time." His other mantra. He thought about jumping into the car right now and heading up to the mountains.

"You are going to run away aren't you?" She said suddenly.

Irritation so close in his present restless mood made him glare at her. "I'm not running away from anything. When you have gone through what I have, then you can give me your opinion." He snapped.

She looked him right back in the eyes, her strength and confidence so much more powerful than his now. "Do you not think I have suffered before?"

"Not like this, Teyla. When you have nightmares of people clawing at you, killing you slowly and then torturing you, demanding you perform with the gene like some circus animal; then we will talk!" He yelled at her. "When you feel so much pain and fear that you can't sleep in your own bed without thinking someone is about to kill or torture you; then talk to me. When you can't sleep because you might just wake up and find out all this was a dream and that you are still in that tiny little blackened room with no one to talk to no one to….." Damn her, she had made him talk about it. Why was it he was so vulnerable to this woman?

She didn't touch him this time, which helped. He closed his eyes and leant his hands down on either side of the washbasin. He felt sick. He counted breaths for a few minutes. During which her hand touched his arm only briefly.

"I am so sorry, John." She whispered. He bit his lip from telling her he didn't want her pity. "I am sorry we did not come to rescue you."

"You didn't know I was alive." John replied, opening his eyes finally, the plughole a welcome sight. His stomach settled again.

"If I had known… nothing would have stopped me from finding you." She whispered.

He kept looking down at the basin, watching a bead of water inch closer to the plug hole. "Even after what happened between us?"

"Of course." Her hand lay over his hand on the basin, creating a startling contrast of cold porcelain beneath his palm and her warm touch on the back of his hand. "I had nightmares after you left. Nightmares of your death, of what happened between us."

John looked up surprised. Her eyes were wet and he felt the urge to hold her. He resisted, any contact now would only lead to crying and weeping and sobbing. He had to wait till the cabin to let all of that out.

"Don't think about all that any more, Teyla. We both can move on now." He said, as he pulled his hand out from under hers and headed for the bathroom door.

She followed him back into the bedroom, and watched as he picked up one pillow and carried it to the sofa. It was comfortable enough he found as he sat down, picking up the remote; the old familiar habit so welcoming now. Maybe there was a game on he could watch.

A blanket dropped lightly onto his lap and he looked up. Teyla smiled briefly, her expression still full of pity and then she turned back to the bedroom. Glad she wasn't going to push anything, he pulled the blanket up over himself and began to flick through the channels and not think of tomorrow or of the dreams waiting for him.

--


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning:** The angst continues. Contains bereavement and mild sexual scenes.

--

Chapter three….

The massive Sheppard residence came into view and Teyla felt John grow even tenser beside her. It was strange to be back here she reflected as John navigated the car past the tailored lawns. Last time she had been lost in her own bereavement and regret and had been welcomed into a family who had barely known their son. Now she was here again this time with their returning son, now alive and well. Yet, there was still bereavement. John would never see his father again, never truly find common ground with him. The letters exchanged of late had meant at least they had begun to communicate again, but that resolution would never come.

The car came to a rest amidst a long line of black cars and John turned off the engine. He sat back and looked out at the large number of people around the house. Teyla turned to him, studying the tired and nervous features. He looked back at her.

"I'm okay." He answered her question, but they both knew that he was lying. "Most of them will want to call you Mrs Sheppard." He said.

"I know." She smiled. "I recognise many of them from your funeral."

He snorted and turned to open his door. "Bet you never thought you would ever use that sentence."

She climbed out into the bright sunshine and walked around the car to stand beside John, who was doing up the buttons of his smart jacket. She brushed a piece of lint from his shoulder. "You look very handsome." She told him.

His gaze looked up from his buttons to her eyes, via her own black outfit. If he had been about to say something it was lost as they heard someone call his name. They turned to see a man striding across the lawn towards him. Teyla recognised him instantly as John's brother, Dave. He had been rather cold at first at the last funeral before, but by the end of the evening he had warmed to her.

John moved towards him and met the out stretched hand. She followed taking in the two brothers beside each other. Though their colouring and build were different they shared the same tall, strong jawed handsomeness. Teyla remembered John's father and compared his aged features to his sons here now.

Dave caught John's hand and pulled him into a half hug. John was obviously completely surprised and leant stiffly into the hug. Behind Dave several other people around the large house all turned to watch the reunion. Teyla arrived beside John as Dave finally released him.

"It's so good to see you, John. You look well." He said, though it was obvious he was being polite about the last part.

John shuffled uncomfortably. "Sorry about before. The Air force straightened everything out alright?"

Dave nodded. "We were all so happy to hear you were alive. Dad was happy. And I am glad you could make it today. And you as well Teyla." Dave smiled down at her with obvious pleasure. He stepped in and they kissed each other on the cheek. As they parted she saw John's eyes on her.

There came an awkward silence, as John took in the house and the people watching them. Teyla stepped closer, tucking her hand around his nearest elbow, hoping to lend him some support.

"The house looks so beautiful in the summer." Teyla remarked to Dave as they headed towards the house. John didn't resist her touch, instead closing his elbow to hold her tighter to him.

"Yes, it was cold when you were last here. You two should visit more often." Dave began. Teyla could see him looking over at John worriedly, so she smiled as reassuringly as she could. His eyes lingered on the long scar that ran down the right side of John's face.

Eyes all focused on them as Dave led them into the crowd of people. Teyla recognised some of them, but most were unknown. Associates of his father Dave told her. It appeared Patrick Sheppard had been a well respected, powerful man. Many people came up to talk to John, many telling him how they hadn't seen him since he was so much younger. Others told him of how good it was to hear he was in fact alive. And all gave him condolences for the loss of his father. Through it all Teyla remained by his side, her hand around his elbow and he kept noticeably close. Despite all their problems of late, here they were very much on the same side and she was there for him.

Once they had greeted and talked with enough people they headed away towards the buffet table set out on the grass. Teyla picked up a plate and offered him one, but he shook his head. She frowned at him and picked up another for her and set about filling both the plates. She handed him one plate which she had filled with foods he liked the most. He frowned down at the selection, but reached down to pick up a piece of cucumber and chewed it slowly. They headed off to one side, John wanting to be separate from the others for a while.

They stood leaning against a white fence, watching the people in silence and munched on the food. He picked at the food, but at least he was eating. A woman stepped out from the crowd and John straightened up from the fence, tense once again.

"My ex-wife is coming over." He said out the side of his mouth.

"Nancy. We have met." She informed him. He looked round surprised and then realised it must have been at his funeral. An almost comical look of panic crossed his face, which she thought meant he was imaging what his two wives would have talked about. Teyla gave him an amused smile and then turned to greet Nancy as she finally arrived.

"John. Teyla" She greeted them and stepped into towards him and they shared an awkward tense hug. "I am so sorry about your father. He was always so kind to me." She added as she stood back from him.

"Well, in his mind, marrying you was probably the best thing I ever did." John replied his eyes then sliding warily to Teyla. Teyla and Nancy shared a smile.

"How are you Teyla?" Nancy asked her with a polite yet kind smile.

"I am very well, thank you. And you?"

"I am good."

"How… how's Greg?" John asked.

"Grant." Teyla corrected him gently. His eyes went back to her, surprised and oddly thankful.

"Grant." He repeated.

"He's well. He would have been here, but he is trying a very important case."

"Well, it was nice of you to come." John uttered, still completely uncomfortable.

"It is good to see you alive and well, John." Nancy replied her eyes full of sympathy. Teyla wished she would stop looking at him like that, it wasn't what he needed right now. Fortunately Nancy looked away to Teyla. "And good to see you again, Teyla. Hopefully if we meet again it won't be at a funeral."

Teyla nodded politely and watched as she walked away.

"You two talked then?" John asked into the silence.

Teyla continued to eat and smiled at him. "We had a long conversation."

He lifted an enquiring eyebrow, but the sparkle in his eyes that would have been there months ago was absent. She realised she had not seen that joyous light in his eyes for a long time. That sparkle of mischief and pleasure that was so very John Sheppard.

"I should go and see Dad." He said, looking away and handing her his plate.

Teyla nodded and he headed off towards the room where the coffin rested. The plates were heavy in her hands as she watched him shove his hands into his pockets and slip quietly towards the little room.

She spoke to several people as she waited for him to return. Everyone was full of questions about John and she answered them as honesty as possible without giving away any details. Time passed and she realised John had not returned to her, so she headed out through the crowd looking for him.

Unable to find him outside she headed into the house, which was mostly empty apart from the caterers weaving in and out with trays of food and drink. She remembered the vague layout of the house from her visit before and worked her way through the rooms downstairs. She came upon Dave talking with two people in the lounge.

"Hello, Teyla. Everything alright?" Dave asked.

"Yes. I was wondering if you have seen John around?" She asked keeping her voice light and unconcerned.

"He was headed upstairs to see his old room." Dave said with a smile.

"Thank you." She could see the questions in Dave's eyes. He wanted to ask her about John, to ask if he was truly alright. Though the brothers had not seen each other in a very long time, it was clear that Dave had seen the depth of pain in his brother. Teyla smiled and nodded to him now and left the room.

Climbing the stairs she wandered down one long corridor she believed to be the correct one. A door was partly open at the end and she pushed it further to see John sitting with his back to her on the side of his old bed.

He vaguely peered over his shoulder at her, but didn't really move more than that. She did not bother to ask if he was okay, instead she moved to sit beside him on the soft bed. She noticed that he held a piece of folded paper in his hand.

"You found something from the past?" She asked indicating the paper.

He looked down at it, his eyes too shiny. "No, not from the past." He stood up and moved away from her towards the window, standing there with one hand in his pocket the other clasping the paper. "It's a letter Dave found, said he found it on Dad's desk. It's his next letter back to me."

Emotion stirred in her chest and she knew that the contents of that letter had disturbed John's already compromised powers of control. She considered leaving him alone, maybe then he would let the tears out that so needed to be shed.

He turned from the window and sat down in a plush dark chair, his elbows on his knees and he turned the paper between his hands. "He said he was sorry and that he was proud of me." He whispered.

The tears were in her eyes quickly and she had to look away from him or she would begin to cry openly for him. She focused on looking around the room again, taking in the stark coloured walls and the unlived in quality.

Her tears under control she turned back to look at him. He was sitting back, one elbow on the chair arm and his hand covering his mouth. He was blinking and staring out the window intently; trying so very hard not to let it all out. The tears were back in her eyes as she watched her husband fight against his emotions.

He sniffed and sat forward, covering his face with his hands and it was all she could take. She moved to his side sitting on the chair arm beside him and slid her hand into his hair. He sagged at that and she heard him sob, and then he was leaning towards her seeking comfort. She pulled his head to her chest and he tucked his face against her and cried.

She stroked his hair, whispering nonsensical words to him and let her own tears fall. She cried for his pain, for her own and for what they had lost. His body shuddered with the tears and he pressed in closer to her, one arm wrapping around her middle to hold her closer. She rocked him slightly, rubbing his back and stroking down over his head and neck.

A slight sound outside the door made her look up and she saw Dave peer around the door and his sad eyes fell to his brother. She was sure John had not heard him. Dave looked up to her and she smiled as best as she could. He nodded and pointed towards a tissue box behind her on the bedside table before he turned and left. She reached back with one arm and snagged the box, bringing it round. She pressed a tissue into his free hand, curled up against the chair's arm. She wiped her own face with another tissue.

After long minutes John's tears stopped, or were once again back under his control she wasn't sure. Her skin was wet across her chest and right shoulder, but she did not mind. He took big calming breaths, trying to regain control, but he didn't move away from her. She continued to stroke his hair, waiting for him to feel together enough to move away.

It felt good to hold him again, even in such a situation. His body familiar and her tears almost started up again. She sighed lightly, not wanting to disturb him against her. So much pain, so much loss. Would there ever be a chance to find a place between them again? Would he ever return to the man he had been before? Could they return to the people they had once been?

The stubborn tree stump returned to her mind then and she found herself praying that their love would be like that tree; deeply rooted and stubbornly refusing to be destroyed. But, so much had happened not just between them, but for him. He had been broken. She wanted to help him heal and repair the damage, but she wasn't sure he wanted her to.

He sat back, wiping his face and she let go of him. He pulled more tissues from the box and dried his face and hands, his eyes downcast and embarrassed. She reached out and stroked his hair once again and he looked up at her, his eyes swollen and red. He tried to smile, but it was obvious that he was weak and tired now.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"You do not need to be sorry, John." She whispered, taking the opportunity to stroke his hair one last time before he moved away. He did, standing up.

"I'm gonna go to the washroom. Get cleaned up." He muttered and headed out into the corridor. She watched him leave and wondered if that had been what she had been hoping for. John had let some of the tears fall, but he was once again closed up. But, perhaps it was the start of his healing.

Once John had cleaned himself up and looked normal enough that he felt comfortable rejoining the crowd, they stepped back out into the sunshine, though the sun was now sinking towards the horizon. Many people had gone, but the closest were still around. Dave smiled as they joined him and those talking over the last of the buffet.

John felt tired beside her, but he made a concerted effort to join in the conversation. Dave invited them to stay for dinner and Teyla was surprised to hear John accept, with a quick affirming look towards her. She stayed at his side, supporting him, but he had closed up again. Putting on the strong show for everyone, and they appeared to believe it. Except her and Dave.

By the end of the evening it was just the three of them. They ate a simple meal out on the terrace watching the sun set. John and Dave talked of their childhood and began to reconnect. She was so pleased to see it and tried to keep as quiet as possible in the discussions to allow them the time together.

Eventually they said farewell and the brothers hugged goodbye and promised to stay in better contact from now onwards. John and Teyla walked through the cooling evening to the car and climbed in. They waved to Dave as they drove off and they lapsed into silence as they drove back to the motel.

As the lights over the streets flashed past she looked down at the ring on her finger. In the flashes of light it sparkled, but she supposed she was meant to take it off now, but she didn't want to. She looked over at him. He looked tense again and very tired. Maybe he would sleep well tonight. His phone bleeped at that point and he pulled it out of his pocket. When they stopped at a red light he checked the message.

"SGC are sending a car to pick you up tomorrow at nine o'clock." He told her.

"You are definitely not coming back to the SGC?" She asked.

The light changed and he moved the car forward once again. "A friend has offered me their cabin up in the Mountains for the next few months. I can be by myself. Think things over."

She studied him in the alien city light and realisation cemented together. "You are not really planning to come back to Pegasus are you?"

He kept his gaze forward and she wondered if he had planned to have this conversation in the car so he didn't have to look over at her. "I need time, Teyla. You can go back to New Athos and your people. I will be fine. I might go back to the SGC, or to Atlantis, I'm not sure. Right now all I am sure about is that I don't know what I want. I need space and time to find myself again and decide what I want."

"I understand." She looked away to the bright lights outside the car again. "I understand that you are not sure where you want to work and to live, but I need to know where we stand, John."

They drove on in silence for a while.

"Things ended a long time ago, Teyla. I love you, but I don't think we can live with each other."

The tears were back in her eyes. They reached the motel and he pulled the car into the space in front of their door and turned off the engine, plunging them into complete silence and darkness.

"I love you too." She whispered before she turned and opened her door, stepping out into the cold.

They walked to their door and John unlocked it, reaching in to turn on the lights and then stood back for her to enter. The room looked so much more dull and empty than before to her. She walked straight to the bed, kicking off her shoes.

She became aware that he was standing at the bedroom entrance watching her.

"I'm sorry how things worked out." He said. "And I'm sorry about how I've been. I need time and to get away. You understand?" He asked her, real emotion in his voice now.

She looked at him, through eyes she knew were red. "I do. I am sorry about what happened as well." She turned her attention to packing her bag ready for tomorrow and pulling out her bed clothes. "We thought our love would protect us from the life we have chosen to live, but it couldn't."

He shifted in place. "I don't want us to leave things like this between us. After tomorrow we may never see each other again."

She looked up at him. "I know." It hurt, it really hurt. Before when she had thought he had died she had been able to fall back on the thought that they had been forever parted by fate. Now it was a choice that separated them. She closed her eyes and sighed.

He moved towards her, coming to rest beside her and waited until she looked up at him. "I don't know what to say." He confessed again. "You know I'm no good at the feelings."

She smiled at that, looking away. His hand came up and gently turned her chin back towards him and he leant in and kissed her. She met the kiss with surprise but with feeling.

"Thank you for going with me today." He whispered.

She nodded, her eyes closed against the tears.

"I don't want to leave things like this Teyla. I don't want my last memory of you to be us crying together." He pulled her to him, hugging her for the first time in almost a year and she let the tears slide down her cheeks. His chest felt so good against her cheek and his hands stroked up and down her back.

He nuzzled into the side of her neck and they were kissing again. This time the kiss was deeper and full of need. A desperate need to connect one last time.

Their clothes hit the floor around them and he held her tightly to him as he lowered them onto the bed. His hands were so familiar as they moved over her skin, he touched the places he had always touched, kissed the same places and slid into her with the same need and emotional honesty that his kiss had contained. They moved with each other, both tapping back into a mutual rhythm they had found together so long ago.

She clung to him, holding him to her as tightly as she could, desperate to remember how he felt, burning it into her memory. The tears ran freely over her cheeks, sliding down her face and into her ears. As her climax hit her with its usual powerful intensity that it always had with him, she cried out in passion and in sorrow. She felt her nails bite into his skin, creating new marks next to the scars from his torture.

He held her tightly to him as he poured himself into her, holding her, kissing her throat and weeping her name.

For a moment they lay in each other's arms and let their breathing slow. She closed her eyes and held onto him. If only this moment did not have to end, she would be happy. But, she wasn't happy and she wondered if she would ever be again.

They fell asleep beside each other, holding onto one another one last time.

In the morning they said little to each other as they packed up their things. The SGC car arrived at five to nine and beeped its horn outside their room. Teyla picked up her bag and coat and moved with him to the door. He held it open as he too picked up his bag.

Together they walked out into the too bright sunshine. Teyla placed her bag and coat into the waiting car and asked for a moment. She walked over to where John was loading his bag into the boot of the car he had rented back when they had arrived on Earth. She saw the suitcases and bags and her two boxes all packed in there. He was really leaving.

He shut the boot with a sound so final that she flinched. They turned to each other and Teyla found she could say nothing. Tears welled in her eyes and she cursed them again.

"Will you write occasionally if you can?" She asked. "I would like to know you are okay."

He nodded. "Next time I'm passing the SGC I will drop in a letter I promise. Please try and stay safe." He pulled her towards him and they wrapped their arms around each other. He squeezed her tightly to him. "I may end up back in Atlantis, you never know."

"I hope you find what you are looking for, John." She said into his shoulder.

They pulled back from the hug, but Teyla placed her hands on his shoulders, initiating the Athosian custom. He leant his forehead to hers and they stayed that way for a moment before parting.

He stepped back from her, his eyes wet. "I do love you Teyla." He whispered.

She reached up and slid her fingers over his jaw to his chin. "I love you too, John Sheppard of Earth."

She turned then the tears hot on her cheeks and headed towards the waiting car. As she arrived she looked back to see him watching her. He nodded and slipped on his sunglasses. She got in and closed the door with a loud thud, like the sound the axe had made cutting into the roots. She would leave that stump right were it was when she got back. Suddenly New Athos and her home galaxy felt very empty and unwelcoming without John's presence there anymore.

She watched as he got into his car and as their cars passed as they exited the motel they watched each other through the windows and then drove off in different directions.

--

THE END…or is it?


End file.
